


In The Cage

by tenaya



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1987-09-01
Updated: 1987-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenaya/pseuds/tenaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gan's death changes the dynamics of the crew and leads to new alliances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Cage

# IN THE CAGE

  


## by Tenaya

  


##### In the glare of a light,  
I see a strange kind of sight;  
Of cages joined to form a star  
Each person can't go very far:  
All tied to their things  
They are netted by their strings,  
Free to flutter in memories of their wasted wings.

  


###### "In The Cage"  
— Genesis

  


Avon was restless. Although it was his watch on the LIBERATOR's flight deck, Blake and Jenna were there, too. His thoughts stirred tirelessly around in his head, but they always came hack to the same subject: Vila.

The thief had been very subdued and solitary since Gan had died. He was obviously grieving for his lost friend, and the rest of the crew respected his desire to be alone during this tine. Avon had thought it odd that the normally gregarious thief would want to be alone so much of the time, though. Avon missed him. The others weren't as amusing as Vila was.

Avon discovered he also missed Gan. He thought about the time he had scornfully asked Jenna if she had ever met an honest man. She had looked at Blake and said, "Perhaps." The technician knew she was wrong. Blake was not an honest man; he meant well, but he was not averse to manipulating to get what he wanted. Avon did not consider manipulation a form of honesty. But, he thought, perhaps they had known an honest man in Gan. The big man had been rock steady and reliable and, in a way, a touchstone for morality since the others had slightly warped versions of what was right and wrong.

Avon remembered with irritation the scene that occurred on the flight deck less than an hour ago. Vila had finally reappeared to man his station. He was obviously preoccupied and had eventually made a mistake. Jenna had noticed an unusual power drain on the energy banks; Blake ran some checks and discovered that Vila had left the long–range detectors on. The rebel leader, himself on edge since Gan's death, spoke sharply at Vila. Vila started to stutter some excuse, stopped, then simply fled the flight deck.

Blake stared after him, mouth open with surprise. "Damn!" he said, and started after Vila. Jenna called him back, quietly stating that it might be better to apologize later.

It was typical, thought Avon, that Blake would be so wrapped up in his own guilt not to be sensitive to the thief's misery. The computer expert noted with approval when Cally quietly left the flight deck about ten minutes later, her face worried and determined. She had to be going to find Vila; perhaps she could get him to come out of his shell.

Glancing again at the chronometer on his console, Avon waited impatiently for his watch to end. He wanted to talk to Cally.

* * * * *

Vila was in the surgery unlocking the cabinet that held the soma when Cally surprised him. He heard her exasperated sigh and turned guiltily to face whoever had caught him.

"Oh, it's you," he breathed in relief.

"Vila," she said with gentle exasperation. "What is wrong?"

He avoided her gaze and stared silently at the floor.

"You must talk to someone; it is not good for you to keep your worries to yourself." She advanced on him. "Please let me help."

"Gan's gone; what could possibly be right?" he muttered.

"It's more than that. I feel your loneliness, yet you avoid us — why?" She was standing directly in front of him.

The thief was silent, eyes downcast.

"Vila, you should know by now that you have nothing to fear from us," she persisted. It hurt her to see her normally friendly companion so withdrawn and fearful.

"You wouldn't understand," he said softly.

"At least give me the opportunity to try. You and Gan were close," she prompted.

"Yes," he began haltingly. "We'd met in the holding cells a week or so before the LONDON left Earth," he said, bringing his eyes up to hers. "He stopped some other prisoners from...hurting me. He became my friend, Cally. He stayed by me and protected me. I never had anyone do that for me before," he said, his voice filled with pain. Vila wandered a few desolate steps away from her. "He never became angry with me, even when I was being irritating. I was safe when he was here looking after me."

"We all look out for each other, Vila, and you are safe here with us."

"I don't feel safe. The others are so...Alpha." At her puzzled expression, he said, "Blake, Jenna and Avon are so aggressive and dynamic that I feel I could get left somewhere and they would never even notice." Or care, he thought to himself.

"That's not true, Vila," she protested.

"It's how I feel," he returned stubbornly.

"Come back to the flight deck with me."

"No," he answered quickly. He saw her expression starting to get that determined look and said, "I just need some more time. I'll get back to the routine tomorrow, okay?" he pleaded.

Cally did not look happy about it, but relented "All right, Vila, but no soma. That doesn't settle anything."

The thief grimaced briefly then smiled at Cally. "All right, no soma." He turned and left before she could change her mind about going back to the flight deck. The Auron stared after him, all too aware that nothing had been changed by their talk.

* * * * *

Avon's watch was finally over. He left the flight deck without a word and started his search for Cally. He found her in the rec room staring moodily at her hands, which were folded in front of her on the table.

He hesitated, then sat across from her. "Did you find Vila?"

She looked up. "Yes, Avon. He is very lonely."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but he has been avoiding us."

"He is afraid of us," she said simply.

"He is afraid of his own shadow," Avon dismissed with irritation.

"No, it's more than that. I don't really understand, but it seems to be because Gan is no longer here to protect him. He feels threatened and exposed to the rest of us."

Avon frowned to himself as he considered her words. "He said that?"

"More or less, yes."

The computer expert stared thoughtfully past Cally, suddenly unaware of her. She watched him for a while, then shook her head. Humans were very strange at times. She got up and left. At least Avon seemed concerned about Vila; maybe he could figure out a way to help their unhappy friend.

* * * * *

Avon was vaguely aware that Cally had left. That was fine with him; he needed to consider this new turn of events.

Thinking back, he remembered how things had been on the LONDON. It had been a potentially unpleasant situation, but between Blake's powerful ability to lead and the fact that Jenna was a very attractive woman who was unattached, they had kept the prisoners and guards in line somewhat. Still, Avon had overheard conversations and knew that many of the men had targeted Vila as their second choice, should they be unable to ensnare Jenna.

Avon wondered what it had been like on the LONDON after Blake, Jenna and himself had left. If Gan had protected Vila from the others — and it seemed likely that he had — Avon could now see how deeply the thief had had to rely on the big man. How close had they been? Vila was a survivor and would do what was necessary in order to live, but Gan? Avon still thought he was an honest man; one who would not take advantage of the helpless in a desperate situation.

So, it was apparent that Vila had come to depend on Gan and trusted him intimately with his life and well–being. Now that support was gone, leaving the easily and often victimized thief adrift once more, and at the mercy and whims of the stronger people he encountered.

Avon shook his head. It had been a year and a half since they had taken possession of the LIBERATOR, and during that time they had been in many tense and life–threatening situations. One would have thought that Vila would have come to trust them. Avon smiled. Just like he himself had come to trust the others, he thought sarcastically to himself.

He considered how similar he and Vila were at times, particularly their code of ethics and their suspicious natures. In fact, in the beginning he had been frequently startled by the thief. Slowly, he became aware that there was more to this man than met the eye. Intrigued, he found himself watching Vila closely to determine just what the truth was, since it was foolish to take the thief at face value. It was a game that Avon found refreshing — particularly with the trading of insults; Vila was not as defenseless as he appeared!

Avon had missed the thief during the last five days. He finally admitted to himself that he was fond of the little man, and now realized that it was Vila's absence that had made him restless lately. As soon as that thought was realized, Avon felt the stirrings of desire.

It had been eighteen months since he had shared himself with another person and as it looked like they were going to be stuck on the ship indefinitely, his prospects for a lover were rather limited. Blake only had room in his heart for The Cause and Jenna. The blonde smuggler had been very persistent and had finally gotten her way. Avon shrugged — they seemed more than pleased with each other and that suited the technician just fine. The computer expert and Jenna were too alike to be attracted to one another. Avon knew he was drawn to Blake, but also, that he was repelled at the same time. The man was magnetic, but his head was full of nonsense. Avon grudgingly admitted that as Blake's mind had been tampered with so much, it was amazing that he had been able to salvage any personality or reason at all.

That left Cally and Vila. Cally was attractive, but she was undeniably an alien. Avon enjoyed her friendship, but drew away at the thought of being intimate with her. It made him uncomfortable. On the other hand, Avon was entirely at ease with Vila. He had, until now, thought that the thief would not be interested in furthering their relationship; Vila had been reasonably happy and Avon had simply enjoyed him company.

But now things had changed; Vila obviously needed someone. Would the thief accept him, Avon wondered. Would his advances be welcomed or construed as opportunistic? Avon frowned. He had better be sure of his motives if he wanted to be convincing and fair to Vila. The more he thought about it, the warmer the desire was that burned inside. He wanted the thief and not just because he was suddenly available; he was drawn to his vulnerability and had been for quite awhile. He had grown fond of this quirky and irritating little fellow; a fondness that had pierced Avon's protective armor and grown into something deeper — something that now caused his heart to quicken.

Avon slowly got to his feet and left the room. He headed purposefully to Vila's cabin.

* * * * *

Vila lay on his bunk staring at the ceiling. He had taken off his outer tunic and was wearing a loose shirt. He started at the soft knock on his door, but kept quiet.

"Vila, it's Avon. I want to talk with you." The voice was muffled, but understandable.

"Can it wait until tomorrow?" he called out.

"No. Let me in."

Vila rolled to his feet and went to the door, opening it uneasily. "I'd really rather this wait until tomorrow," he said.

The computer expert ignored him and slid inside. He shut and locked the door behind him, then turned to face the surprised thief.

"What do you want?" Vila asked with puzzlement.

"You."

Vila 's expression melted into alarm. He reached quickly for the door release, but Avon grabbed his wrist and held it firmly.

"Let me go," the thief said, his mouth suddenly very dry.

"I want you to listen to what I have to say first." The technician's voice and eyes were steady.

Vila pulled away, and Avon wrapped his other arm around the thief's shoulders to keep him from recoiling further. Standing so close to the smaller man, Avon was astonished and fascinated by the fear he saw in thief: the dilated eyes, the tremors that ran through his body, the rapid, ragged breathing, and the quick beating of an artery in his neck.

"Is it so frightening to be held by me?" Avon said softly.

"Don't flatter yourself," Vila said, his voice quavering. He held himself motionless as he stared up at the technician, stiff with hollow defiance.

Avon arched his eyebrows, a ghost of a smile on his face as he appreciated Vila's display of spirit. Growing serious again, he said, "I'm not interested in hurting you; quite the contrary, as a matter of fact."

"Why don't I believe you then, eh?" Vila said, giving a sharp tug to the wrist that Avon still gripped.

"Because I think you are too scared to know what you want."

"So that's how you're going to rationalize it," Vila said bitterly, his voice shaky.

They stared at each other. Suddenly, Avon knew that if he continued this conversation, he'd probably end up being talked out of his intentions by the thief. It was obvious Vila was scared, expecting the worse and would say anything to deflect Avon's advances. The computer expert seriously doubted that he would be able to think of the right words to convince Vila of his motives at this point.

Impulsively, he drew Vila into a strong embrace, letting his fingers knead and caress the back of the tense man.

Vila froze. His worst fear was realized and he numbly waited for the brutal and self–centered assault to begin. When it didn't, he slowly became aware of the gentleness of Avon's touch and began to relax under its rhythmic persuasion, the phrase "not interested in hurting you" echoing in his mind. It was difficult to believe that this was the arrogant computer expert who bristled at everyone. Vila knew Avon was unpredictable, but this?! Unsettled, he waited to see what Avon would do next.

Avon smiled as he felt the tension gradually leave Vila's body. He bent his head down and gave the thief a quick, tentative kiss which was rapidly followed by a more persistent one. Avon was pleased, his pulse quickening when Vila opened his mouth to give him entrance. Encouraged and excited, Avon allowed his reined in passion to come forward and he eagerly deepened the kiss while his hands worked their way under the thief's shirt, exploring the warm, slender torso.

After a time, Avon realized that Vila was not actually responding to him. He reluctantly ended the kiss and opened his eyes with a sigh to study the thief. He was pleased to see a brightness in Vila's eyes that had not been there before, but if Vila was excited, why wasn't he participating? Could it be that past experience had taught Vila that he wasn't expected to, Avon wondered? If that was the case, it simply wouldn't do. It had suddenly become vitally important to secure the thief's cooperation; he was aching to have this man.

"Vila," he said gently, "I think I should explain: I want a partner, not a toy. Feel free to join in."

The thief, meanwhile, was fairly well paralyzed with confusion. Avon's kiss had sent an unexpected flash of excitement jolt through him. The sure touch of Avon's strong hands against his bare skin had thrilled. He stared mutely up into the technician's dark eyes, now black with desire, and it seemed that time had ceased to exist. Vila had always thought that Avon was very handsome in a dark, fierce way, and extremely magnetic. He was now stunned to find himself the focus of this aloof, highborn man.

Avon smiled slightly at the thief's expression; he had never seen anybody look worried and awed at the same time. "I want you," he said, laying a breathy kiss on the side of Vila's neck. He felt the smaller man jerk and gasp at the touch. "An alliance between us could be mutually beneficial, and I think, very satisfying. Do you understand?" His voice was a low purr.

Vila swallowed hard. His attraction to Avon was growing by the second. Before it got totally out of hand, Vila knew he needed to find out where he stood with Avon; what would be the rules to this relationship. Taking his courage in both hands, he spoke up.

"This alliance, how far does it extend? How 'mutual' do you mean?"

Sensing it was reassurance that Vila was after, Avon said, "You will have complete autonomy."

"Eh?" Vila looked bewildered.

The technician's eyes sparkled as he simplified. "If ever you do not want my attentions, I will respect your wishes and not bother you. As for how far the alliance will extend, I will, of course, protect you as best I can, but I would prefer to keep our arrangement from the others. I don't care for my personal life to be made public."

"That's fine with me." As a thief, Vila was naturally predisposed to being secretive about personal matters. Growing a little bolder and more at ease, Vila asked, "This 'satisfying' you mentioned earlier; how mutual will that be?"

A radiant smile broke out on Avon's face and it vaporized any remaining fear or apprehension from the now captivated thief. "I mean, even though I may play a little rough sometimes, it's still for your enjoyment, too." Hands still under the shirt, Avon ran his fingertips lightly over Vila's smooth sides. The thief shivered and Avon marveled at how responsive his companion was.

Encouraged and afire, Vila slid his hands up the technician's chest, curving one hand behind his neck, the other tentatively brushing against Avon's jaw and cheek in wonderment. Slowly, he lifted his face upwards and Avon tilted his head down to meet him. This time the kiss evolved quickly and with it, urgency and passion blazed in both men. Their arms contracted until they were clasped to each other in a crushing embrace.

As they hungrily continued the kiss, Avon turned slightly and backed up toward the bed, pulling the thief with him. They reached it sooner than expected, causing them to stumble. Falling onto the bed, Vila was surprised to find he had landed on top of Avon. He propped himself up by his arms and grinned. As he started to speak, Avon knocked one arm away, grabbed him about the chest and executed a neat roll — bringing him to a stop on top of Vila. Capturing the smaller man's wrists, he stretched them out to either side and leaned heavily on Vila, pinning him beneath.

"Stay," Avon softly ordered. He sat up and began to undo the snaps of Vila's shirt. He pulled the cloth back until he had it off. He let his hands trace the contours of the thief's chest. Vila's breath quickened and grew irregular. Avon's hands worked lower, attacking the fastenings of Vila's trousers. Edging away, Avon tugged the garment down and off, stopping only to first pull off the thief's shoes. He paused to survey his handiwork; Vila now lay naked and partially aroused, eyes bright and wide with excitement. With a few efficient movements, Avon threw off his own clothes.

Lowering himself down, he slid onto Vila, tensing as his bare flesh met the thief's warm, sleek body. His mouth found Vila's, and he took possession of him aggressively. As they kissed, Vila wove the fingers of one hand through Avon's thick, dark hair; the other hand slid up and around Avon's arm, gently massaging the muscular back. Reaching down, Avon found Vila's erection. He stroked and fondled him until he was hard, then started a rhythmic pumping. Ending the kiss, the thief arched up into Avon, feverishly trying to rub his body against him. Avon quickened the pace, delighting in the control he had over his companion. Vila stiffened and with a cry of ecstatic pleasure, came to climax.

Shifting his hold, Avon lightly traced his fingertips over the flushed and gleaming skin of his lover. Vila pulled the technician close, hugging him as he laid a trail of kisses from Avon's lips and along the jaw to his ear. It made Avon's skin tingle and he moaned. His desire mounting, he restlessly pulled away from Vila and rolled the smaller man over onto his stomach. Bending over him, Avon gently pushed the thief's legs apart and knelt between them. He paused, eyeing the prostrate form beneath him. He spread his fingers out across Vila's lower back and pressing down, rubbed them up the spine, delighting in the sensation and anticipation. Unable to delay any longer as the ache in his groin increased unbearably, he gripped Vila's shoulder with one hand and used the other to guide his erection into the thief's tight anus. He pierced him slowly, trying to give Vila time to relax and allow him an easier entrance. It was an incredibly exquisite sensation as he sank into the thief.

"Relax," he said into Vila's ear when the thief remained tense from the undoubtedly painful penetration. Fully sheathed and resting heavily on the slender body, Avon waited patiently, massaging the thief's shoulders to help loosen him up. He kissed him about the neck again, remembering Vila's earlier response, intermixing quick darts of his tongue and playful bites with the kisses. The thief reacted immediately and Avon felt the shivers of delight course through the smaller man, relaxing him enough for Avon to begin again.

Avon left one hand on the thief's shoulder and worked the other around his waist. Holding Vila immobile, he carefully began pumping, slowly at first. When he felt the thief starting to move in coordination, arching back to meet him, he went faster, deeper, passionately burying himself completely into his lover with each shuddering stroke. When it happened, his orgasm was so intense and strong, his final frenzied thrust scooted them a foot higher on the bed. Moaning, he gripped Vila tightly as his seed spurted into him, triggering a second feverish climax in the thief.

They lay entwined together, winded, drained, and stunned. When his breathing was under control, Avon gently withdrew and turned Vila toward him. The thief burrowed in closely, arms around the technician, head resting against his chest. Avon shifted slightly, his hold on Vila possessive as he settled in for sleep. Their coupling had been painfully ecstatic — he would not willingly let Vila be parted from him now. He pulled him a little closer.

Vila felt Avon's hold on him tighten and he marveled at the intensity of the technician's climax; he felt strangely pleased that Avon had chosen him. His earlier fears had vanished as if they had never existed; all he felt now was drowsy contentment that he had satisfied Avon so completely, and dazzlement at his own exhilarating response to the other man. Perhaps more importantly, he felt secure again. Avon was capable and resourceful; if he was looking out for him, Vila knew he'd be well protected. With a sigh, he surrendered to the irresistible draw of sleep.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published in Southern Lights Special, #3.75.


End file.
